


Your words unspoken

by tsukllama



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A lot of pain, Alliances, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Alternate Universe - War, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Assassination, Betrayal, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not all ships are endgame, Royal Oikawa, Traitor Iwaizumi Hajime, Violence, i did some of them dirty sorry, just maybe iwaoi, ok maybe a bit of comfort, psychopathic behavior, royal guard iwaizumi hajime, they aren’t the focus either
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29309070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukllama/pseuds/tsukllama
Summary: “Sparks of fire lit the dark night. The campfire was small; they would run out of wood before midnight.A small body crouches besides the fire, the limbs are all too thin, making the knees stick out in an awkward position. The kid holds a thin stick, poking the fire every so often, but his mind was elsewhere.“What is it kid?” Hajime asks in a sigh.“Do you miss it?” Hinata whispers. “Your old life?”Hajime bit his lip. They never talked about the past, but he kind of expected this question to pop from the kid sooner or later.Hajime carried with him a Royal Seijoh blade. A recognizable burden from his old life, one Hajime should probably get rid of. He knows that he should, he also knows that he won’t.Hajime chuckles, “Not my life, no.” He looks at the black blade on his hand, the turquoise jewel on the handle slightly cracked — a symbol of his betrayal. “Someone, yes.””Or: Hajime’s the leader of a group of thieves who’s stuck in the past. Oikawa has a terrible relationship with his sister’s fiancée and someone is out to kill the Prince.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Kudos: 18





	Your words unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> not me creating a new account just so irl pal doesn’t find me— ay 
> 
> i’ve been wanting to post this for sometime, i hope y’all enjoy it :)
> 
> psa: i didn’t know, but then a friend pointed out that the way i wrote about a Seijoh Blade is similar to the way a shardblade works in SA. So i’m sorry if it feels unoriginal:”)

That night, Hajime wore red. No one could see it, the color hidden beneath his well fit uniform, but he wore it nonetheless. 

For his people, red meant treachery to the King; a color reserved for prisoners guilty of the most gruesome crimes. Therefore, Hajime made sure to find and wear a red shirt for the night ahead of him.

The castle’s ballroom was filled with nobles, high society members and even a few common workers, all dressed in a variety of ball gowns and suits from all sorts of fabrics and colors.

Most people were still seated on their designated tables, enjoying dinner and drinking all sorts of expensive wines. 

Some walked around the room, meeting old and new faces to converse, negotiate and brag. Another few, most of whom were the scarce middle-classers, danced to the cheery tune the Royal Band played. 

Hajime stood tall, his ‘festive’ uniform lighter than his usual armor. The white kevlar adorned his body in a comfortable and familiar manner, and so did the long turquoise vest with the Royal Family emblem on its chest.

Different from the Royal Guard, dedicated to serve the King and kingdom as a whole, Hajime was a Seijoh Warrior, trained since childhood to closely protect the royal family at all costs. 

So, different from the guards standing on each entrance of the ballroom, his uniform favored speed and movement, instead of bulk and brute force.

His white scabbard, holding two cristal daggers and his Seijoh blade, was hidden beneath his vest. The handle of his sword stuck out of a carefully designed hole, made so it was easy to unsheathe the blade in one swift and trained motion. 

But, although Hajima was nearing his eighteenth birthday, and has been a sworn Seijoh warrior for three, even gaining the King's blessing to be the one to stand by the prince’s side, Hajime has never unsheathed his blade to fight another human. 

A Seijoh blade is dangerous, that is the first thing any warrior in training learns as they reach the age of nine.

Made with steel only found beneath Tsutomu volcano, the blade is midnight black and cuts through any inanimate thing. And although he'd never seen it firsthand, he knew that, when used against a living being, the blade doesn’t cut the flesh, but the soul itself.

The sword’s handle adorns a small jewel, containing a silver of soul from the blade’s owner, making it so that none but they can wield it. 

Soldier and blade, made one until the very end.

“Iwa-chan!” A hurried whisper reaches his ear. The Prince — and, by the irony of life, his best friend, — suddenly stood up from his chair, the food on his plate untouched. 

“Public.” Hajime whispered back, not managing to hold back a scowl. Tooru knew damn well he wasn’t supposed to use nicknames near prying eyes. Hajime took a deep breath. “Yes, Your Highness?” 

“No one is even looking!” Tooru half whines, but schools his face into a Prince-like fairly quick. “I’d like to go to the balcony, would you care to keep me company?” 

‘It’s not like I can say no,’ Hajime thinks. 

“Your Highness, Sir.” Hajime says in a gentle tone, not really wanting to face the cold night head on, “you haven’t even touched your food, Sir.” 

Tooru just barely scrunches his nose, but Hajime knows the Prince well enough to see it. Today was the Queen’s birthday, which meant lobster for dinner. 

Tooru hated lobster.

"I suppose that would be none of your concern." Tooru grins slightly, always one to be delighted with the Prince card. "Now, I really would enjoy breathing some fresh air." The Prince quickly turns to his mother, bowing his head slightly. "Excuse me, mother."

"Don't let him run away Hajime." The Queen's voice is sweet but her eyes are stone cold. It's no secret for anyone at the table how the woman disapproves of her son's antics.

"Your Majesty." He steps aside and bows to the Queen, waiting for Tooru to take the lead. 

"Yeah, Yeah. We will be back before the main dance, or whatever." Tooru mumbles. If they weren’t in public, the Prince would surely be scowling — or whining, Hajime didn’t like either.

They fell into step, slow enough to not feel like the Prince was running away, but just fast enough so he wouldn’t have to stop and play nice with whichever guest who felt like talking with the future king. 

The night was chilly, and although most plants were glazed with frost, snow wouldn’t come for another week or so. 

The sky was clear, a beautiful indigo canvas with thousands of white dots. Three moons stood full on the horizon, yellow, silver and pink; bathing the balcony with it’s shine. 

Tooru smiled as soon as the doors closed behind them, tension visibly seeping out of his body. He leaned forward on the balcony’s edge, eyes on the stars, hands on the hem of his right sleeve, fumbling with the seam.

“You are going tonight.” Tooru says after too many seconds were spent in silence. It wasn’t a question, it was never a question with Tooru. 

“Hm.” Hajime answers, his guard persona slowly going away. He leaned besides Tooru, but his eyes focused on the Prince’s profile rather than the stars. 

“You are lucky I’m the only one that noticed.” He continues, left hand pointing accusingly to Hajime’s collar. “I— Kind of knew this would happen, you’ve alway said you wanted to be free. Just never thought you’d actually leave…” ‘ _ me _ ’ was unspoken, Hajime heard it just fine. 

Tooru takes a shaky breath, “... Why?” 

“You know why.” Hajime whispers, eyes suddenly very heavy to keep open. He didn’t want to have this conversation, not now, not ever.

Tooru chuckled, and years of practice towards being the perfect heir was the only thing stopping the tears. His eyes weren’t on the sky anymore, but also weren’t on Hajime. 

“Yeah, I know.” He gulps, “I guess I just wanted to hear it from you before your departure.” 

Hajime doesn’t tell Tooru what he wants to hear, and Tooru doesn’t look at him even once for the rest of the night. But it’s fine, it’s better even. 

Because then Hajime doesn’t have to say goodbye before unsheathing his blade, nor does he have to think of the odd satisfaction of slashing a guard’s throat only to be met with no blood, but just hollow white eyes of a dead body with no soul. 

It’s better, because without a goodbye, Tooru is still innocent.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoje you enjoyed this prologue, constructive criticism and kudos are always welcome~


End file.
